The parkland stretched wide through the thirty-foot entrance between tall trees, and I just turned to my left and kept running, looking for some place thick and private to hide myself in. He was just like all the rest, wanting me for nothing but my talent, nothing but the prestige I could bring him. I sobbed as I ran, tears streaming down my cheeks, breath rasping through my throat, heart hammering from exertion and crying, but I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to run forever from all of them and never stop to be hurt again.
The parkland was just that—wide open stretches of grass with occasional bushes, tall trees bordering it, stone benches scattered here and there beside short, pebbled walks. I ran as far as I could, finding nothing of the hideaway I needed so badly, at last forced to a stop by shuddering lungs and strengthless legs. I fell to my knees in the short, velvet grass and put my face in my hands, almost to the point of letting the pain and loneliness wail from my mind to everyone in range. Letting go would have been so easy—but there was too much shame beside the pain to broadcast it all over. I’d been a fool, and it was enough that I knew it.
No more than a minute or two passed before I heard the sound of running behind me. He was there, trailing a lot of other mind traces, his confusion and flickering emotions nearly drowning the others out. I tried to get to my feet to run again, but his hand was suddenly on my arm, pulling me around to face him.
“Wench, why did you run?” he demanded, ignoring the way I fought desperately to pull away from him. “Speak to me of what has disturbed you so that I may understand it.”
I couldn’t answer him. All I could do was pant and struggle in an effort to free myself. The tears rolled down my cheeks with nothing to stop them, and then Garth was there, standing close enough to take the barbarian’s attention.
“This woman is under my protection,” he said in a calm, deadly voice, his mind furious with anger—and faintly frightened. “Let her go right now, or face me with that weapon you wear.”
“The woman is my belonging,” Tammad answered, looking down at Garth with an abrupt calm that his mind echoed. “Though she wears no bands, I have not unbanded her. Are you mistaken in thinking her unclaimed, or do you challenge me for possession of her?”
“What are you talking about?” Garth demanded, confused. “That woman is a Prime of the Centran Amalgamation, not something to be owned. I don’t know where you came from, but you’d better let her go.”
“Tammad, he doesn’t want her for himself,” another voice interrupted, belonging to a stranger who was one of those following after the big barbarian. He wore the uniform of a transport captain, and he’d stopped beside Tammad, not far from Garth. “He’s a—a—warrior of this planet, trying to protect the Prime. He’s not trying to take her from you, he’s just trying to keep her safe.”
“I see,” Tammad nodded, staring deep into Garth’s eyes. “He has no feeling for the woman, he merely protects her. Know then, warrior of this world I stand upon, I have paid more than dinga for this woman between my hands. I shall not harm her, but neither shall I release her. I mean to return her to my world as soon as possible, therefore have I little time to spend in balk. Are you able to stand aside knowing she goes with he to whom she rightfully belongs, or does your honor forbid this?”
Garth shook his head. “I still don’t understand most of what you said, but your final question comes through clearly enough. Your answer is, no, I can’t just stand aside and let you take her. Not as long as it isn’t what she wants.”
“A man rarely knows the true desires of a woman,” Tammad sighed. “Though I do not wish to take your life, I nevertheless give you honor for the honor you show. I shall face you as soon as I have seen to the temporary disposition of my wenda.”
He’d been looking around as he talked, one hand still clamped tight to my arm, but apparently he quickly found whatever he was looking for. He moved toward me, turning me around, then continued past where I’d been standing, drawing me along with him. The best I can say is that I didn’t go willingly; tear-stained, and struggling, I still ended up going toward a large, barred and screened structure that held many different kinds of birds. The thing stood flat on the ground and was built with very simple lines, probably to keep the container from detracting from the appearance of the contents. I was pulled right up to it, the barbarian having no more trouble with me than he ever did, and then he opened the door and thrust me inside.
Wings exploded in all directions around me, feathers of many brilliant colors floating under screams of fear and outrage. I threw my arms over my head and tried to back away from the panic my presence was causing, but the door had been closed again behind me. Soft bodies tried to escape but flew directly at me instead, in fear. My back pressed against the bars, I slid to my knees, my arms still over my head, my mind in as much of a turmoil as those tiny minds around me. I could almost feel the bands the barbarian had been talking about, the five small-linked, bronze-colored chains he had used to mark me as his, one each on my ankles and wrists, the fifth about my throat. I didn’t want to wear his bands again, not anymore, but he would take me back to Rimilia and force me to wear them, with no one to stop him or free me from him! The sobbing started again, heaving my chest and hurting it, and I clawed my way around to face the bars I’d been leaning against, ready to scream out my desperation. I don’t want to go back! I started to scream, but no one was paying any attention to me with the greater attraction they had in front of them.
Tammad stood surrounded by the men who had accompanied him, Garth stood with his back to Tammad’s group, facing the Kabran officers and the merchants from the dispute, both groups obviously trying to talk the two men out of the fight they intended having. I wiped my eyes with the back of one hand, more miserable than I would have thought possible, then tried to slide my fingers through the mesh covering the bars of the birdcage. The catch that kept the door closed was a simple one, but the mesh was so small and fine I couldn’t slide even one finger through it. My hand trembled from the way my ragged breathing shook my body, but I kept trying to force my fingers through the mesh, only distantly noticing the abrupt calm settling on the birds behind me. The fluttering and screaming had stopped completely, the feathery minds were relaxed and happy, a chirping and trilling had started up again. I was too upset to know what it meant and I didn’t even care when great big raindrops began pattering down on me, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The rain had no trouble getting through the mesh, but I couldn’t! I had to get out of there, but I couldn’t!
And then, through the thickening rain, I saw all the men on the grass draw back—except for the two who stood staring at each other. Garth had looked so big and strong to me when I’d first arrived, and compared to the other men he was—but not when compared to Tammad. The barbarian and his men towered over all the others, standing tall and confident and feeling and thinking the same way. Tammad drew his blade quickly and with ease, holding it in a sure grip with the point lowered toward the ground. Garth drew his smaller sword more slowly, and it came to me that his fear wasn’t gone but was now under control. He wasn’t about to let it distract him from the upcoming fight, any more than Tammad was letting unconcern distract him. The barbarian had no doubts about who would win, but the conviction had no chance of turning him cocky or careless.